


Clasped So Tight

by non_tiembo_mala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Come as Lube, Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Risk of Discovery, Wincest - Freeform, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 05:23:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11074917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/non_tiembo_mala/pseuds/non_tiembo_mala
Summary: Dean's been away with John on a hunt. When they get back late and Dad goes to bed, the boys can't help themselves, but they do have to be quiet.Sam is 14, Dean is 18.





	Clasped So Tight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bewarethesmirk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewarethesmirk/gifts).



> A gift for my beloved Steph on her birthday. Darling, I hope it's okay! Thanks for being filthy with me ❤️
> 
> Thanks to Tal for the help with the prompt and all the encouragement. 
> 
> Thank you Jen for the speedy beta. 
> 
> Title taken from Death Cab For Cutie's _I Will Follow You Into the Dark_ because I inadvertently used a line during the fic and thought it would be appropriate. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The door to the bathroom is barely shut when Dean knees his way up the pull-out bed towards the warm, mostly-sleeping lump under the covers that is his little brother. Dean knows Sam is awake – he and Dad didn’t exactly make a silent entrance, hauling their duffels and trudging in weary after a gruelling four-day hunt – but the kid is out of it and not moving real fast. Dean’s eyes are adjusted enough to the dark that he can tell Sam tried to stay up for him, a half finished bottle of pop on the bedside table and his book within arm's reach on the bed, but he’s barely fourteen and it is nearly three in the morning. Dean should be exhausted too but he shot the son of a bitch they were tracking not even an hour ago. The adrenaline is still humming through his veins and he’s been thinking about Sam’s precious ass ever since driving away from it. Thankfully Dad _is_ beat, but he’s also covered in blood, so shower first, sleep second. And while he’s in there, Dean has every intention of making sure Sam is just as worked up as he is.  
  
Sam shifts fitfully under him, fighting the clingy vestiges of sleep as Dean gets his knees on either side of Sam’s body and drops his hips to press his already hard dick into the round plush of his brother’s backside. Sam cants his hips and pushes into Dean like it’s the only instinct he’s got. He whines, high and long, and Dean echoes the sound with a dark chuckle because _goddamn_ his kid is so easy. He leans down to get his mouth close to Sam’s ear, dragging his teeth along the edge just to feel Sam shiver, and Sam is still so fucking small that Dean covers him completely, his little body hidden entirely beneath his brother’s. 

“Did ya miss me, baby boy?” Dean purrs, already a little breathless himself. Sam nods quickly into his pillow, and his hair, warm from sleep and smelling faintly of dirty boy, swishes around and teases Dean’s nose. It’s the only smell Dean knows that might be more intoxicating than the inside of the Impala after a close call and Dean’s dick twitches against Sam’s ass as he breathes it in deep. Sam whimpers and arches his back, pushing persistently into the hot, hard length of his brother, trying to get closer than the blankets and all their clothes will let them, and Dean bites his lip to keep his own moan a quiet one. 

“Sammy, c’mon. Dad’s only in the shower. Still gotta be quiet,” Dean whispers. The water comes on as if to punctuate Dean’s words, followed by the clinking of the shower curtain rings, a sound which fights with more of Sam’s tiny whines, quieter than before but no less desperate. The noises his brother makes go right to his cock and he pants hotly as he drops his jaw a little, making Sam’s neck warm from his breath before he nuzzles in to kiss and lick at it.

Sam still doesn’t feel all the way awake but he squirms under Dean then, twisting to chase his mouth blindly while trying to keep Dean’s dick lined up with the crack of his ass, such a slut for the friction of big brother dick rubbing against his hole. Dean can’t help but smile as he kisses his way to Sam’s lips, and he hungrily eats out the sleep-sour taste of Sam’s mouth. The water is still going but Dad showers like he’s still a marine, so they don’t have much time. Sam keeps making helpless, tiny noises as Dean kisses him, and Dean can tell from the twitchy rhythm of Sam’s hips under his that his brother is definitely awake where he wants him to be, grinding his little boy dick into the mattress where he’s pinned between it and Dean.

The water shuts off, the curtain gets pulled open, and as Dean listens to his father’s footfalls outside the shower, Dean stills abruptly. He _loves_ this part. He knows he’s fucked up, okay? He’s hot for his kid brother, to start, and getting off on that is bad enough. But tempting fate when he knows Dad would skin him alive if he ever knew – it sets his blood on fucking _fire_. 

“Shush, Sammy. Be a good boy, arrite. Be quiet, just a second…” Dean breathes it against his brother’s lips and Sam nods again, silent and unmoving as Dean, even though Dean can still feel the wanton energy pouring off him, the way he has to fight not to keep pushing back or grinding down. Dean slides off him and knows how hard it is for Sam not to make a heartbroken sound at that because Dean wants to make it, too, but any second now Dad is going to come out of the bathroom and–

The door opens and for a brief moment light pours out with a billow of steam before Dad flips the switch and returns them to darkness. Dad is rubbing a towel against his head, in his hair, and barely looks up as he pulls the door mostly shut behind him

“G’nigh’,” he grunts out quietly, rough and worn. He assumes Sam is sleeping but he knows there’s no way Dean is out yet.

“Night, Dad,” Dean stage whispers back so Dad can hear, and it feels like his own voice has to compete with the furious pumping of his heart and rush of blood in his ears, his aching dick throbbing all the more for the danger as he hides it underneath him against the mattress. The room is silent except for his own illness echoing out with every overexcited _thump-thump-thump_ from his chest that feels all the way to his toes, waiting for the sound of Dad’s bedroom door clicking shut. The shuffling behind it muffled and minimal, but Dean can hear the faint sound of a creaking spring as Dad finally sits down on the bed and starts to settle.

“ _Dean_ ,” Sam hisses, quiet as he can but pleading and impatient as he struggles to stay still, waiting for Dean to let him move or tell him what to do. Dean feels himself leak against his stomach where he’s trapped inside his pants.

“Yeah, I know. You’re so good, baby. Stay quiet,” Dean starts to move and lifts the covers off his brother at the same time. Sam starts to roll over onto his back but Dean clicks his tongue gently to make a series of barely-there _tsk-tsk-tsks_ and he stops, going back onto his belly while Dean quickly strips out of his overshirt and pants, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. He’s in a worn grey t-shirt and even more worn black briefs now. Dad knows they’re sharing the one bed this dump offers but there’s still no way to explain away them both being naked in the morning if Dad comes out first.

Sam’s holey, too-big sleep shirt used to be Dean’s, and it’s fallen down into the dip of his spine where he still tips his hips up to present his ass to his big brother and there’s a strip of baby-smooth peach-fuzz covered skin between the hem of it and the elastic on his underwear. Dean is on his hands and knees, braced over his brother’s now uncovered body and he leans down to kiss at the dimples in Sam’s back, dragging his teeth over the flesh because Dad doesn’t look at Sam here, nipping and then soothing the bites with his tongue. Sam shakes under him and Dean doesn’t have to look to know his brother’s hands are gripping the sheets tight enough to tear, little almost-whimpers rattling around in his feather-light chest. 

God, Dean wants to drag this out and take his brother apart for real, but it’s been so long, it’s so late, and their father might be tired as hell but he’s also mostly sober and so Dean isn’t about to be foolish. He leans back on his heels and gets his hands around Sam’s hips, his fingers so thick and spanning so far compared to Sam’s slim waist that he has to bite his lip to keep from growling as he tugs his brother back and up like it’s nothing. He’s a little rougher than he means to be and Sam strangles a little yelp as he braces himself on his forearms and knees. 

They both freeze, Sam trembling in the trap of his brother’s steely grip where his fingertips dig almost painfully into his tummy. They both listen for sounds from Dad’s room – shuffling, snoring, a threat for them to keep it down – but it doesn’t come. The danger has Dean so close to the edge already, he sinks his teeth into Sam’s cheek as he tugs down his underwear and leaves it shoved around Sam’s knees. Sam lets loose the echo of a tiny whine and Dean grins against the marks he’s left on Sam’s ass before covering them in kisses. 

He lets go of Sam’s hips, knowing that his fingerprints are bruises blooming on his brother’s body, and he smoothes over Sam’ butt – skin so smooth against his rough, calloused palms – and holds him apart so he can lick a stripe up Sam’s crack and over his hole. Sam shudders violently at the warm, wet pass of Dean’s tongue, but he stays silent and Dean’s heart swells with a dark kind of pride. He noses at the most secret parts of his brother’s body, the ones that belong only to him, and then gets into it in earnest. He teases at Sam’s rim with the tip of his tongue and then kisses it like it’s his lips, coaxing him to relax so he can get his tongue inside. Sam’s broken breaths and the wet sounds of Dean’s mouth are the only ones in the room. Dean moves slow to keep the noises he makes quiet, but he’s ruthless once Sam opens up for him, fucking into him as deep as he can get, and when Sam’s panting starts to pick up traces of his voice, broken and tiny, Dean knows he’s close. He reaches around with one hand to wrap his fingers around Sam’s dick and it only takes two pulls before his brother is spilling over his fist, his body jerking with each pulse, kicking back against Dean’s face. Sam pushes his face into a pillow to muffle the sound he can’t keep in, but Dean is moving quickly, climbing back over his brother even as he milks him through the last spurts to press down on him further.

“Shhh, you were doin’ so good,” he whispers, getting Sam’s ear wet with his spit-covered lips and chin as he speaks against it. and Sam gets heavy underneath him as his orgasm subsides. “So good, baby boy. Now lie down for me, keep those legs together, yeah?”

He eases off to give Sam the room to flatten out, down on his belly again, but not before he squeezes his fist and tugs good and slow to gather up all of his little brother’s come. Sam practically melts into the mattress when Dean lets him go, still breathing heavily into the pillow, and Dean tucks the waistband of his briefs under his balls with his clean hand and slicks himself up with the other. Sam’s going to be a mess in the morning – they both will be – but that’s never stopped either of them before. He pulls Sam’s underwear where it’s still around his knees to keep them together, and then he presses the head of his dick underneath the swell of his pretty boy butt, nudging in between his still so delicate thighs. He sighs, long but silent, with the welcome pressure. 

Sam is lax below him, maybe even falling back asleep in the wake of coming, so Dean shimmies to get his knees on either side of Sam’s, forcing them more tightly together and then he eases into a slow, _so slow_ , rhythm with his hips, drawing out and pushing back in between the smooth skin and lean muscle of Sam’s too-skinny legs. Dean is doing all the work, pinching his brother’s legs together with his own, moving steady to keep the bed from creaking with his movement, but Sam being so pliant and letting him do whatever he wants – _fuck_ , that’s hot. His little brother has given him everything – gives him everything – so readily. Dean is drunk with it, Sam’s soft, lithe body, warm and heavy for him to use as he likes. He has to fight the instinct to speed up or push in too hard, faint groans from the springs starting up to remind him to hush. He’s so close, tense with all the effort of it all, sweat dripping into his eyes as he bites his lip and stays painfully silent.

Still so close, Dean wishes he could pick up the pace but this piece of garbage bed won’t let him – not if he doesn’t want to wake their father – and just when he starts to waver, Sam’s lips press against his wrist. Not asleep then, but Sam moves lazily to open his mouth against Dean’s skin where his fist is braced in the mattress in front of his brother’s face. He starts to suck there, nursing at Dean’s pulsepoint, his bony fingers snaking around the other side as if to keep Dean there – like he’s going to go anywhere else.

It’s all Dean needs, the insistent tug of Sam’s mouth, but it’s a surprise.

“ _S-shit,”_ he bites out, startled, and comes, ruining the sheets underneath his brother. He sinks down on top of Sam, unable to hold himself up, and he has to be crushing him, smothering him with his weight and heat, but as his breathing calms down he can feel Sam’s smile against his wrist, his arm at an awkward angle now that he’s lying flat and Sam’s not let him go.

Dean sighs and pushes himself off his brother so he can breathe, and Sam lets his wrist go but Dean takes Sam with him as he rolls back.

“Outta the wet spot, c’mon,” he murmurs, and Sam hums happily, still loose and like putty in Dean’s hands, letting his big brother move him so they’re spooning, Dean on the edge of the bed but neither of them in the mess they made. “So good for me, Sammy.”  
  
Dean readjusts himself inside his underwear and tugs Sam’s up, too. Sam doesn’t say anything as they settle but he makes another small, snuffling sound that Dean knows well.

“Missed you, too, kiddo,” Dean breathes against Sam’s neck, but he’s pretty sure he really is asleep again. Dean smiles, holds him close, and quickly follows his brother into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are love ❤️


End file.
